The Dark-Hunters (519 page)

Only time would tell.

JUNE
23, 9529
BC

At last word came. The Queen of Kiza had agreed to take Acheron in. The messenger had arrived yesterday with word that Boraxis was on his way here to escort Acheron to safety. He should arrive in another three days.

Elated, I planned to tell Acheron tonight during the surprise celebration for the anniversary of his birth.

My brother was going to be safe. Forever.

Happily we were out in the orchard today. In truth, we’d spent the entire morning there, laughing and sampling the gardener’s prized fruit. The orchard was so beautiful. Peaceful. The leaves were a bright, breathtaking green that was punctuated by the golden apples that burst with sweet, succulent taste. Even the old, stone walls were tranquil, draped with flowering vines.

No wonder Acheron preferred it to any other place at the palace. The summer air was fresh and warm and I could have spent hours watching the way Acheron enjoyed the simplest of things such as the sensation of sunlight on his skin. Grass beneath his bare feet.

Of course, his life had held far too little of either one. How I wish I could have given him another life. A better one. The life he deserved where no one had ever hurt him for things he couldn’t help. Where people could see in him all the beauty that I saw and understand what a truly gentle soul he possessed.

As I watched him inhale the scent of an apple before he added it to the bunch he’d picked, I was struck by how much he’d changed these last few months.

For once, he reminded me of a youthful seventeen-year-old boy and not a jaded, used-up old man. He’d learned to trust me. To trust in the fact that here he was safe and secure. That no one feared him or was out to seduce him. He could be himself without being obsequious or afraid of being grabbed or hurt. And I prayed he found the same peace in Kiza.

Oh, the pain I felt whenever I thought about his life in Atlantis. How could our uncle have treated him that way? Even now I could see Acheron held in chains. See the shallow emptiness that had been there in his eyes the first time he’d looked at me when he had no idea who I was.

Who
he
was.

I might have failed him earlier, but I vowed I would not fail him again. Here, he knew peace and happiness. I would try my best to always keep him far away from the world that couldn’t understand or abide him.

While he picked the apples, he reminded me of a squirrel as he jumped from tree to tree, gathering his treasure. He was such a handsome boy. In my heart I knew that he and Styxx were twins, and yet as I watched him, I was struck by their differences.

Acheron moved much more gracefully. Fluidly. He was leaner, his hair a tad more golden, his muscles more defined. His skin softer.

And those eyes …

They were beguiling and terrifying.

After he was done, he brought his treasure to me and laid it out in a circle so that I could choose which apples I wanted first. He was always considerate that way. Thinking of others before himself.

“Do you think Father will come and visit soon?” he asked as he lay on his side, watching me eat my apple.

I could sense that he was probing me to see if I were lying. His silvery, swirling eyes were so disturbing whenever he held that gimlet stare. No wonder Uncle beat him for looking at people. It was disconcerting and even frightening to be under such bold scrutiny.

But he didn’t deserve to be hit for something he couldn’t help.

“I’m thinking you and I should take a trip in a few days to visit a queen.”

He looked away, disappointed, as he toyed with his own apple.

Wanting to soothe and reassure him, I reached out to brush his golden hair out of his eyes.

“Is that the tenderness of true affection you spoke of?” he asked me in a hesitant voice. “The one where people who love you, touch you without asking for anything in return?”

“Yes,” I answered.

He smiled at me, openly and honestly like a child. “I think I like it.”

Then I heard something that made my heart stop beating.

There were several footsteps drawing near. I knew there shouldn’t be any such sound in our temporary paradise. Petra and Maia were busy in the kitchen. Petra’s husband had gone to town and the rest were busy with their duties.

Only one person would come with someone else.

I knew it was Father the instant Acheron sat up, his face overjoyed.

I closed my eyes and ached in terror as I forced myself to stand and turn around to confront him. His face angry, Father stood between the old stone columns that marked the opening of the orchard with Styxx by his side.

My blood froze in my veins.

I wanted to tell Acheron to run and hide, but it was too late. They were already too close.

Just three more days and he would have been safely away from here. I wanted to weep.

“Father,” I said quietly. “Why are you here?”

“Where have you been?” he demanded as he moved forward. “I have searched and searched until it dawned on me to come here.”

“I told you, I wanted time—”

“Father?” Acheron’s excited voice filled my ears. This was the first time the boy had seen him since Father had sent him away.

Horrified, I watched him run to embrace his father. Unlike Acheron, I knew what reception he’d receive.

Not one ever to disappoint me, Father shoved him away ruthlessly and raked him with a repugnant grimace.

Acheron frowned in confusion as he looked to me for an explanation.

I couldn’t speak. How could I tell him that I’d lied to him when all I had wanted was to make his life better?

“How dare you steal him from Atlantis!” Father snarled.

I opened my mouth to explain, but was distracted by the way the twins studied each other. I was entranced by their mutual curiosity. Even though each of them knew the other existed, they hadn’t been together in over a decade. Neither of them really remembered what it was like to see and interact with the other one.

Joy was etched on Acheron’s face. I could tell he wanted to embrace Styxx, but after Father’s reception was hesitant.

Styxx looked less than enthusiastic. He stared at Acheron as if he were a bad dream made real.

“Guards!” Father shouted.

“What are you doing?” I asked, unable to comprehend why my father would summon guards for his own son.

“I’m sending him back where he belongs.”

Acheron’s jaw went slack as he turned toward me with terrified eyes.

My heart thumped wildly in fear of his being taken back to Atlantis. “You can’t do that.”

Father turned on me with a glare so hateful it actually made me take a step back in fear. “Have you lost your mind, woman? Why would you coddle such a monster?”

“Father, please,” Acheron begged, falling down on his knees before him. He wrapped his arms around Father’s ankle in the most obsequious pose I’d seen since we left Atlantis. “Please don’t send me back. I’ll do anything you ask. I swear it. I’ll be good. I won’t look at anyone. I won’t hurt anyone.” Acheron kissed his feet reverently.

“I am not your father, maggot,” Father said cruelly as he kicked Acheron away. He glared at me with venom. “I told you, he doesn’t belong with this family. Why would you defy me so?”

“He’s your son,” I said through my own tears of anger and frustration. “How can you deny him? It’s your face he has. Styxx’s face. How can you love one and not the other?”

Father reached down and gripped Acheron’s jaw tightly in his hand. I could tell his fingers bit into Acheron’s cheeks as he pulled him roughly to his feet so that Acheron could face me. “Those are not
my
eyes. Those are not the eyes of a human!”

“Styxx,” I said, knowing if I could win him to my cause, he could sway Father’s opinion of Acheron. “He’s your brother. Look at him.”

Styxx shook his head. “I have no brother.”

Father shoved Acheron back.

Acheron stood there quietly, his eyes dazed by the reality of the moment. By his face I could tell he was reliving every nightmare he’d experienced in Atlantis. Every degradation.

I watched as he wilted right before my eyes.

Gone was the boy who’d finally, after months of tender coercion, learned to smile and to trust, and in his place was the defeated, hopeless shell I’d found.

His eyes were hollow now, empty. I’d lied to him and he knew it. He’d trusted in me and now that fragile bond was severed.

Acheron hung his head down and wrapped his arms around himself as if that could protect him from the brutality of a world that despised him.

When the guards entered the orchard and my father told them to take him back to Atlantis, Acheron followed them without a word or a fight. He was once again unassuming and opinionless. He no longer had a will of his own or even a voice. He was what he’d been.

With a few harsh words, Father had undone all my months of careful nurturing.

I glared at my father, hating him for what he was doing. “Estes abuses him, Father. Constantly. He sells Acheron to—”

My father slapped me for those words. “That is my brother you speak of. How dare you!”

My face stung, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stand by quietly and let them shatter the soul of an innocent boy who should be coddled, not thrown away like he was nothing. “And that is my brother you cast off. How dare
you!
”

I didn’t wait to see what else he would say. I ran after Acheron who’d already been ushered away by the guards.

He was waiting at the front entranceway of the palace for horses to be brought to them. His head was bent so low that he reminded me of a turtle who only wanted to crawl back into its shell so that no one could see him. His grip on his arms was so tight that his knuckles were white.

He stood like a statue.

“Acheron?”

He refused to look at me.

“Acheron, please. I didn’t know they’d come today. I thought we were safe.”

“You lied to me,” he said simply as he stared blankly at the floor. “You told me my father loved me. That no one was ever going to make me leave here. You swore that to me.”

Tears fell from my eyes. “I know, Acheron.”

He looked at me then, his silvery eyes tormented. “You made me trust you.”

Shamed to my soul, I tried to think of something to say to him. But nothing substantial would come. “I’m so sorry.” It was a lame apology even to my own ears.

He shook his head. “I was never to set foot out of my chambers without escort. Never was I to leave the household. Idikos will punish me for leaving. He’ll…” Horror filled his eyes as he tightened his grip on himself even more.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what was waiting for him in Atlantis.

The horses were brought forward.

When Acheron spoke, his words were a soft, heart-wrenching whisper. “I wish you’d left me as I was.”

He was right, and deep in my heart I knew it. All I’d done in my stupidity was to hurt him more. I had shown him a better life, one where he was respected and given choices.

Now he would have no say in anything about his life. He would be less than nothing in Atlantis.

I sobbed as a guard grabbed him roughly by his arm and forced him into a chariot. Acheron never looked back at me. I realized he must truly hate me for what I’d done to him and I couldn’t blame him for it.

Heartsick, I stood there and watched as they rode away.

“Acheron!” Maia screamed as she came tearing out of the doorway.

Only then did he look back. His face was stoic, but I saw the tears in his eyes as he waved good-bye to her.

Falling to my knees, I pulled Maia into my arms as she sobbed with the heartfelt sadness that haunted me as well.

Acheron was gone and there was no hope of my ever freeing him again. Father would make sure of that.

Then I remembered the words the old priestess had uttered the day of his birth.

May the gods have mercy on you, little one. No one else ever will.

I knew just how right she’d been. Acheron was right, the gods had cursed him.

Otherwise we would have had our three days …

JUNE
23, 9530
BC

It had been one year since I last saw Acheron. Maia and I sat in the orchard of the summer palace for hours this afternoon thinking about him. Wondering what he was doing. How he fared. I told Maia that I was sure he was fine, but in my heart I knew the truth. He was anything other than fine. There was no telling what was being done to him while the two of us sat nibbling on olives and cheese while playing in the warm sun.

I’d sent numerous letters to Acheron in Atlantis to no avail. No one would tell me anything of him. The maid who’d originally contacted me had died under suspicious circumstances—that much I’d overheard in a conversation between my father and my uncle not long after Acheron had returned to Atlantis.

Estes hasn’t spoke to me since.

I’d attempted to ask my uncle on his last visit about Acheron. He brushed me aside with a bitter dismissal. He knows I know what he’s doing and he will no longer acknowledge me in the least.

I’m dead to my uncle. Not that it really matters to me at this point. He died to me the moment I saw my brother tied to a bed because of Estes’s greed.

But it made me wonder how Acheron felt about me. If he even thought about me anymore. Did he hate me over what had happened? Or was he so drugged now that he no longer even recalled my name?

There was no telling.

I had no hope of saving him again. Because of what I’d done, Father now keeps me under extreme guard at all times. I no longer have the freedom to travel without his express permission. Boraxis was reassigned to cleaning out the stables and replaced with another guard who refuses to even speak to me.

Even Styxx barely acknowledges my presence.

“How can you let your own twin suffer so?” I’d asked him barely a week after Acheron had been taken.

“Estes would never do such a thing. It’s another of your lies designed to make us free Acheron. You should be grateful I’m not king yet. I’d have you whipped for such treachery.”